


Bruises and Bitemarks

by ExtraSteps



Category: All American (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bruises, Consensual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Secret Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraSteps/pseuds/ExtraSteps
Summary: Spencer arriving in Beverly Hills has sent Jordan into a spin. Asher is there to support him through a hard time, no matter what it takes.





	Bruises and Bitemarks

Jordan took a lot of things for granted, he knew it. He lived in Beverly Hills. He drove a sweet ride. Captain of the football team. Beautiful girlfriend. Best friend who would ride or die for him. Supportive family. He lived in a mansion with all of the comfort and luxury that provided. He was living the dream, literally.

But damn it, it wasn’t like he just sat on his ass and expected for things to be handed to him on a silver platter. He worked hard. He’d worked out relentlessly, for hours every day, been running laps and throwing himself into every practice. Every single guy on that team knew he’d won that position fair and square, through blood, sweat and tears. No one would ever say he’d gotten the captaincy because of his dad. They couldn’t. His dad was harder on him than anyone else on the team. Jordan liked to think it was because his dad could see he had potential.

That, of course, changed drastically when Spencer joined the team.

He stood by the mini fridge, cold drinks in his hands, listening to his dad say those words. The ones that rocked his whole world, crumbling the foundations of everything Jordan believed.

Reeling, Jordan made his way back out to the pool, handing Asher his drink and sitting down next to him. Asher was complaining about Layla and Spencer, but Jordan was only listening with half an ear. Spencer wasn’t the problem. He’d just illuminated the problem that was already there.

His dad didn’t think believe in him.

“I wouldn’t have recruited him if anyone on the squad had half of his potential.”

He spent the rest of the night in a funk. Obviously he was still charming, was still polite to everyone, getting them drinks and telling them jokes and working the crowd. It was what he was good at, making each person feel like they were important, like they were part of something bigger.

But once they’d all left, it was just him and his thoughts.

***

Asher leaned in the doorway, watching Jordan fall face down onto his bed.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.

Jordan had been off all evening. His smile never quite reached his eyes, and fell too quickly. It wasn’t like him. No one else had noticed, but no one else knew Jordan quite as well as he did. He knew when his best friend was in pain, and though Spencer joining their team was a bummer, he didn’t think that was what was bothering him.

“No,” Jordan muttered, his voice muffled by the blanket underneath him.

In Jordan language, that generally meant yes. Asher stepped forwards, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. Seemed like he was gonna have to get it out of him, one way or another.

Jordan rolled over, looking at him. “You wanna stay here tonight?” He asked. Asher gave him a tired smile. He was the only one with some idea of what his home life was like. He knew that Asher would take any opportunity to avoid being there.

“Obviously,” Asher said. He moved over to the bed, sprawling next to Jordan, just looking at him and waiting. Jordan would cave, eventually.

As he watched, Jordan’s lower lip began to tremble, and Asher frowned. This was serious then. He held his arms open and the other boy crawled to him, falling into his embrace. Asher kissed the side of his head, his chest tight. What had affected Jordan this deeply? He was really worried now.

“Tell me,” Asher whispered, trailing a hand up and down Jordan’s spine. “You know you can tell me anything.”

And Jordan told him.

It stung, to say the least. Asher loved their team, had worked hard for his position. The idea that Coach was calling scouts just for the new kid rankled big time. Wasn’t Asher enough?

But he pushed that aside. This wasn’t about him. Coach was just that, his coach. He was Jordan’s dad. It was completely different.

“That really blows,” he said, tightening his hold around Jordan. “I’m sorry he said that Jords.”

Jordan nodded, staying silent as he clung to Asher like he was a lifeline. For all that Jordan was the life of the party, the class clown, the charmer, he also felt things really deeply. This sort of dismissal from his dad would have rocked him to his core, stripping away all of his self-confidence and leaving only doubt in its place.

“You have potential in spades, and more than that, you work hard,” Asher pointed out. “Just look at how Spencer acted at training. You’d never dream of letting us down like that.”

“That’s true,” Jordan mumbled. “The team comes first.” Asher smiled, loosening his hold. Seemed like he might have gotten through to him.

“Exactly,” Asher said. “If that’s what it means to have potential, then fuck your dad. I’d take you over a million Spencer's. He’s not a team player, but you? You _are_ the team.” He punctuated the ‘are’ with a jab to Jordan’s chest, right over his heart. Jordan rubbed at the spot, looking at him with just the hint of a smile.

“If you start spouting that oh captain my captain rubbish, I’m gonna hit you,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, seeking Jordan’s eyes. He waited until his he had his full attention before continuing. “It doesn’t matter about your dad, screw him. The team believes in you. I believe in you.”

“Yeah?” Jordan whispered, the vulnerability on his face breaking Asher’s heart.

“One hundred percent,” Asher said fiercely. “We’ve got your back, Jords.”

“Thanks,” Jordan nodded, giving him a watery smile. “That means a lot.”

They spent the rest of the night playing video games on Jordan’s enormous TV, and Asher was attentive, reassuring him, leaning into his side, offering him comfort and reassurance. By the time they went to sleep hours later, he almost seemed like his normal self. Almost.

***

Jordan busted his ass all week in practice. They played a prank on the newbie, getting him hammered the night before the boosters turned up to training, but that was more to soothe Asher’s wounded pride than anything else. He wasn’t a fan of change, which Jordan could appreciate.

But Jordan focused on himself. On being faster, on pushing himself harder, until he was falling into bed every night exhausted, his muscles aching. Asher kept shooting him concerned looks, but Jordan ignored them. If the boosters were gonna be at the game, then Jordan was gonna show them what he could do. Spencer or no Spencer.

It was down to the wire. The boys had fought hard, and Jordan stood at the centre of the field, eyes assessing each of the other players. Number 52 had been killing them all game. He was a big dude and a hell of a tackler. And Jordan, from all his hard work during the week, was on his last legs. He didn’t know if he could beat him.

He’d just thrown the perfect pass to Asher. It felt amazing as soon as it left his hands, arching straight from him to Asher like it was on a string. Asher caught it perfectly, and then a second later Number 52 crunched him to the ground. Jordan jogged over, helping him up.

“You okay dude?” He asked urgently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Asher assure him. “Sweet pass.”

“It was,” Jordan grumbled. “That guy’s a monster.”

“Ash,” his dad yelled, gesturing him over.

Jordan watched him go, watched his dad put Spencer on the field and give him the play signal. One that would send him running right past 52.

But he didn’t get to where he was by ignoring his coach. Clearly he had a plan. He nodded, calling the play, and everyone got into position.

He got the ball, stayed back, stayed back, while Spencer went wide. He followed him, gathering speed and momentum, and just before he passed 52 Spencer crunched into his side, sending him sprawling to the ground. Seeing his chance, Jordan zipped by them, weaving through the remaining defenders like it was child’s play, grinning as he hit the end zone.

“Touchdown!”

The boys cheered, descending on him, screaming as they all hugged and high fived.

Pulling off his helmet, he jogged towards his dad.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Jordan’s face fell. It was Spencer he was talking to, not him.

He saw red. He grabbed the first Chatsworth player he saw. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Let’s see his dad keep his star player when he was accused of recruiting. Spencer would be benched for three months at least.

***

Asher sat in the locker room, watching Jordan pace. He was pissed that Coach had benched him for the final play, sure, but at least they’d won. But again, it wasn’t really Spencer that Jordan was cut up over. It was his dad. God, he was such an asshole.

“What do you need, Jords?” He asked.

The rest of the crew had already made themselves scarce, showering quickly and heading to the after party. Jordan clearly wasn’t in a partying mood though.

“I don’t know,” Jordan muttered.

“Fuck or fight?” Asher offered, standing up and grabbing his shoulders. “You choose. But you need to get this aggression out.”

“Ash,” Jordan sighed, just looking down at him.

“What? You know I don’t mind,” Asher said, fingers trailing down his arms. “You wanna fight? We’ll go find something to hit. You wanna fuck? Well, I’ll go get the lube from my locker.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’ve never hurt me,” Asher said firmly, “and you never would.”

“The bruises,” Jordan reminded him.

A flare of arousal lit in Asher’s belly. He loved it when Jordan got rough with him. Grabbing him, shoving him against the wall, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the moans that wanted to spill from his lips. He loved standing in front of the mirror the next day, tracing the marks, treasuring them. Proof that Jordan had wanted him, needed him.

His eyes twinkled. “I don’t mind a few bruises,” he smirked.

Jordan bit his lip, indecision flickering in his eyes. Asher closed the last of the distance between them, taking Jordan’s hands and placing them on his ass.

“We don’t have to,” Asher said, expression coy, “but I promise you, I really don’t mind.”

He tilted his chin up, and Jordan’s chocolate brown eyes dropped to his lips, ducking down to press his lips to Asher’s. It was soft, and tentative, but that never lasted long with them. There was too much frustration boiling over into passion, until Jordan was nipping at his lower lip, eliciting a growl of approval from Asher. Jordan pulled him closer, grinding against him, his cock hard as it pressed into his stomach. Asher shivered, eyes darkening with lust.

“Lube,” Jordan urged, releasing him, his indecision gone. “God, now Ash. I need you.”

Asher hurried over to his locker, wrenching it open and rifling through his bag. It was a small tube hidden in one of the inner pockets, and he pulled it out, placing it in Jordan’s hands before ripping his shirt over his head.

Jordan turned him, pressing him into the locker, crushing his body between his own and the cold metal. He guided his arms up over his head, pinning both of them there with one of his own, his lips biting at his earlobe. “Let me, Asher baby.”

Asher’s eyes fluttered closed as he bit down on his lip. Jordan joked around sometimes in front of the other guys calling him that, but he only did it when he wanted to remind Asher who he belonged to. It was moments like this, with Jordan crooning in his ear, his hands shoving down his pants, that he wanted him to remember.

“Jockstrap, huh?” Jordan grinned, snapping the elastic with his free hand. “You plan this Asher baby?”

A smile danced on Asher’s lips. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Had he specifically worn his Versace jockstrap to the game tonight knowing this would be a possibility? Of fucking course he did. Jordan often wanted to fuck after a game, either to celebrate or commiserate. With him even more on edge with his dad and Spencer, it had pretty well been inevitable.

“You’re so bad,” Jordan breathed, kicking his legs a little further apart. His hand slid down Asher’s arms, cupping his face and turning it so that he could kiss him. Asher kissed back as well as he was able, shivering with anticipation.

“Jords,” he pleaded after a minute. “C’mon. Hurry up.”

“Don’t want me to take my time, tonight?” Jordan teased, bending down to retrieve the lube.

“Don’t you dare,” Asher hissed, arching his back.

Jordan uncapped the lube, dribbling some onto his fingers. A second later, he was pressing his finger inside Asher, taking his breath away. Asher turned his head into his arm, biting down, whimpering as Jordan prepared him with quick efficiency.

“Condom?” Jordan asked a few minutes later, withdrawing his fingers from Asher’s ass.

“Usual spot,” Asher croaked.

Jordan rummaged inside Asher’s locker, retrieving a condom from his bag, kicking off his pants and underwear. He ripped the foil packet open with his teeth, easing the condom onto his cock while Asher watched, licking his lips. Jordan had a fucking gorgeous cock, thick and uncut, a few shades lighter than the rest of his body. He needed it inside him, now.

Luckily, Jordan seemed to need it just as badly as he did, positioning himself behind Asher and pulling him down a bit lower. Asher braced his hands against the lockers, crying out in pleasure as Jordan pushed his way inside.

“Fuck, Ash,” Jordan groaned. “How are you always so fucking tight for me?”

Asher could only moan in response as Jordan pulled out and then slammed back in, setting a grueling pace, his fingers digging into Asher’s hips with bruising force as he held him still.

The air was filled with the sounds of their animalistic grunts and moans as Jordan fucked him hard and fast, giving Asher everything he had. Asher’s cock bounced against his stomach with every thrust, and it didn’t take long before his knees were trembling and threatening to give out.

Jordan pulled out, hooking one strong arm under Asher’s leg and pressing him against the lockers again, holding Asher up as he slid home again. Asher moaned louder, urging him on, feeling his balls gathering in tight to his body. He panted, trying to find something to hold onto, but there was only cool metal under his fingertips. He was close, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“Jords,” he whimpered.

“You need something?” Jordan asked, panting, his head resting on Asher’s shoulder as his body rolled up and into him.

Asher pushed him away, and Jordan went, searching his face, his expression dazed. Asher turned, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him down for a hard kiss. Jordan took the hint, picking him up and pinning him again, their tongues massaging as Jordan guided his cock back into him. Asher wrapped around him, holding Jordan close as he writhed and begged, for harder, faster, more, more, more.

And Jordan complied, fucking into him with a furious intensity, Asher bouncing up and down in his hold, the feeling of being full and complete overwhelming everything else. Every thrust brought the head of Jordan’s cock slamming into his prostate, sending him to dizzying heights. At moments like this, there was only the two of them. The rest of the world melted away into nothing.

Asher’s thighs shook, and he dug his fingers into Jordan’s back, clawing at it, crying out as a black wave of pleasure drowned him, his cock pulsing with what seemed to be an endless stream of come. Jordan bit down on Asher’s shoulder as he moaned, Asher’s ass clenching around him like a vice bringing on his own orgasm, his teeth sinking in deep as he held Asher down on his cock, his body shuddering through the aftershocks.

They both shivered, chests heaving, as the sweat cooled on their slicked skin. Jordan pulled his teeth out of Asher’s skin, pressing a soft kiss to it, brown eyes flicking up to meet Asher’s.

“I needed that,” he breathed, shaking his head with a wry smile.

Asher just smiled, bringing his hands back around to cup his face.

“Happy to help,” he winked, pulling Jordan close for a kiss that was more smile than anything else. Asher always treasured these moments, when Jordan was so sweet and happy, the endorphins pumping through his system turning him into a dopey puppy.

“Come on,” Jordan said, easing out of him and lowering him to the ground, kissing the top of his head absentmindedly. “Let’s shower and then go celebrate with the boys.”

“Sounds good to me,” Asher agreed, watching as Jordan pulled off the condom and tied it, dropping it into the bin on his way into the showers.

Asher let his head fall back against the locker, basking for just a second, fingers brushing over the mark on his shoulder, the sting making him smile.

He hoped that Jordan’s good mood lasted.

***

Somehow, his dad managed to keep Spencer in the team. By this stage, Jordan wasn’t even surprised. He sat on the couch as his dad walked in with Spencer on his heels like an obedient puppy. Jordan’s mum walked past, arching an eyebrow at him.

He had no choice. He just had to suck it up. Spencer James was here to stay. Literally, he was gonna be living with them. Jordan would be driving him to and from school every damn day.

He got to his feet, watching as his mum pulled Spencer into a hug, his dad watching on with approval shining in his eyes. She let him go, and then Spencer was in front of him, searching his face,

He smiled, offering Spencer his hand and shaking it.

Time for a new strategy.


End file.
